I Honor the Circle of My Family

I have had this scrap of folded old newspaper next to my computer for months.

Looking at it every now and then wanting to do something with it, ask it questions, I want to hear it’s story.

Inside it holds the torn pieces of a photo of my grandmother and a well dressed handsome man.   The photo is from the 1940’s judging from the way they are dressed.  It is to my grandmother that my eyes are riveted.  It is like looking at an image of me.

My Grandmother
circa 1940's

My grandmother was a very creative woman. My mother tells me that she would buy suits off the rack and then take them apart and put them back together the way she wanted.  In her Oakland backyard she had an English garden and a peony tree.  The peonies need really cold weather to bloom, but darn if hers didn’t bloom, I have the picture.

She was an amazing cook.  She made the best gumbo I have ever eaten and thus I don’t eat gumbo, because I know it wouldn’t be the same.  She gave me her recipe, but I didn’t try it before she passed.

In the time space continuum that I am in, I want to understand who the women are that shaped me.  I am not like my mother – though I love her dearly.  I harken from another generation of women.  My grandmothers are whom I am like.

Grandmommie as we grandchildren called her worked hard everyday.  It is to her I owe my love of hard work and stick to it ness. Also a love for  the hot cereals Malto Meal and oatmeal and raisins.

It is from her I think my creativity streams forth. Even though I didn’t spend a lot of time with her because of distance.  As an adult woman the time I spent with her was precious.

This past weekend, I taped the scraps together and scanned them into my photo library.  I will frame the scraps at some point.

I don’t have any pictures of me with my Granny(my other grandmother).  

She used to switch my behind when my cousin would get me in to trouble (I was 3 or 4 and mischievious).  Then I had to stay inside and watch the soaps with her.  What I am told about her is that she was kind to people.  She also liked to drink beer and fish.  Both of my grandmothers did, but I don’t.

My grandmothers both wore red lipstick.  I do too.  It's like something I just do. 

I honor them, they made the way for me to be who I am.

I will never know why she kept this picture or tore it up.  But I think I found a piece of myself that I didn't know existed.  And let's face it, she was a woman and who hasn't torn up the picture of a beau?

Heart
mixed media on canvas board
8/2010

What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories.  ~George Eliot